


Can't Breathe

by mommymuffin



Series: Breathe Me [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Bond, Breakfast, Brief Mentions of Being Suicidal, Brief Mentions of Panic Attacks and Paranoia, Explicitly Talking about Underage Sex, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Scott is a Bad Friend, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Derek/Stiles Relationship, Stilinski Family Feels, Talking about Kate Using Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:59:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1587491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mommymuffin/pseuds/mommymuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Really? 'Why do I ask?' It's a Friday night and you're a teenager. Don't you have somewhere else to be besides hanging out with your dad at a Sheriff's station?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I said there were going to be three more parts, so six in total? I LIED. That's twice now I've lied to you all. God, I am a terrible, lying human being. I would apologize, but I don't think any of you really mind. :)
> 
> So obviously this is part six and obviously (once chapter two is up) this is not the end. In fact! I don't even know where the end is! This story has literally stolen my brain and run away with it to Mexico or something, I don't know. But I'm following it now, not the other way around, and I'm just letting it take me where it may. So I hope all of you are along for the ride and will stick with me to the end. Whenever that is. It's got plans, this story. Big ones. I hope I can keep up with it. D:
> 
> The shape of the story is starting to change a little, but I'm going to try to continue to do two chapters each part. If that changes, well, please bear with me.
> 
> A note, this part is admittedly a little slow, mostly talking and like zero action. My apologies. But some things needed to be established and I love the Sheriff, like a lot, so. Hope to make it up to you in the next part!
> 
> Without further ado, I bring to you the sixth installment of our little (and growing at a monstrous rate) series!

The next few days become a blur of yelling and spite and _fear._

Stiles is furious at Derek for not mentioning the Alpha pack to him—to _anyone_.

The hunter on the porch had had his throat torn out, _clearly_ it was the work of another werewolf and it wasn't Peter, they asked. Not that that _really_ means anything, but Derek had thought he was telling the truth. It wasn't much his uncle's style after all.

After the body was found Derek finally deems the mark that had been left on the front door of the Hale house important enough to tell Stiles about. And about what it means. He also shares that he thinks they might have Erica and Boyd and has been looking for them, but has yet to find neither hide nor hair of any other werewolves, known or unknown, in the town.

Stiles could kill him.

The first night, he brings out Cor and then kicks Derek out of the house and spends the night curled up around his wolf and stewing in anger.

Scott has been absolutely no help. Granted he and Stiles aren't exactly speaking on account of the huge blow-out they had over Scott telling the Argents about Cor. He practically went to them and _tattled._ Chris had cornered Stiles in the driveway of his home, which had resulted in Derek almost ripping him apart. Which had resulted in Stiles telling him to calm down. Which had resulted in more yelling.

Allison has been trying to get through to Stiles, since she found out. She's still completely disdainful toward Derek for her mother's death (something she still doesn't know the truth about) and tells Stiles that he should think about what he's doing and remember who his friends are. That's rich coming from Evil Grandpa's former pet.

The good news is that all of this has gotten Allison talking to Scott again. They're "just friends" for now, but Scott couldn't be happier that Allison is sitting with him at lunch again.

Stiles starts avoiding both of them at school.

Surprisingly Lydia sticks with him instead of going with Allison. Of course when she sits down at lunch and demands answers, it makes a lot more sense. He tells her everything, because really— _really_ —it's nice to have someone to talk to that he's not mad at right now. She congratulates him for bagging Derek and tells him to keep her in the loop.

Isaac goes with Scott. He's making it pretty clear where his loyalties lie. Stiles isn't surprised.

The nights are spent giving Derek the cold shoulder and sleeping with Cor at the foot of his bed for protection. As if Stiles wasn't already in a constant state of hypervigilance, the threat of the Alpha pack and their more than clear message of intent to harm is pushing him over the edge. He's tries to sleep at night. Cor's presence helps, but he's still only averaging about three hours each time he closes his eyes.

Stiles mans up and goes over to the Argents' place Friday after school to speak to Chris. He makes sure he's doing it when he knows, courtesy of Lydia, that Allison has plans. He tells Derek to "stay the fuck back," but let's him follow him there. As if he could stop him.

The conversation doesn't exactly go well, but Stiles apologizes to Chris for Derek overreacting the other day and assures him that he's not going to go on a killing spree with his magical blood wolf and could he please keep them informed of any and all supernatural related things in the future, thank you?

Chris accepts the apology and offers one of his own. He agrees to let them know about anything he finds out from now on. Stiles thinks he isn't such a bad guy really and that they all just got off on the wrong foot. Namely the werewolf/werewolf-hunter foot.

By the time Stiles sinks down into the chair across from his dad's desk Friday evening, he's exhausted. They've turned up absolutely nothing on the Alpha pack even though Derek and Cor run a new area of town every night while Stiles goes wherever his dad is to keep an eye on him.

His son's borderline mania has not gone unnoticed by the good Sheriff. He peers at his son over a file as Stiles unpacks the heart-healthy dinner that he has brought him. This is the fourth night in a row that Stiles has made sure they eat dinner together. Clearly something is up.

"Stiles."

"Huh?" Stiles blinks and looks at his father. He looks bone-tired. "Yeah, Dad?"

"What's going on, son?"

It's immediate, Stiles' decision to lie to him, and he sees it as clear as day on his son's face.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Really? 'Why do I ask?' It's a Friday night and you're a teenager. Don't you have somewhere else to be besides hanging out with your dad at a Sheriff's station?"

"Nope."

"Stiles. Where's Scott?"

"At home, I imagine."

"Are you two fighting?"

"A little, yeah."

"Can I ask what about?"

"No."

"Okay. Can I ask if you think you'll make up anytime soon?"

Stiles hesitates and _that's_ strange. In all their years together Scott and Stiles have never had a serious fight and whatever they have disagreed on, they've usually gotten over in a matter of twenty-four hours. The fact that it's been at least four days already is worrisome to say the least. Adding to that the fact that Stiles is acting like he's not sure they'll _ever_ make up...well. Sheriff Stilinski needs some answers.

"I don't know," Stiles admits. "I'm sure we'll...be okay eventually."

The Sheriff frowns deeply. "Stiles...what's going on?"

Stiles is quiet and avoiding eye contact. He's clearly not going to answer and even if he does, it's not going to be the truth.

John decides to go for it. "Is it Derek?"

Stiles' eyes snap up to him like he mentioned his mother. He's apparently struck a nerve.

"What…? No...it's…"

The Sheriff gently asks, "Stiles...are you seeing Derek Hale?"

Stiles gets that stubborn draw to his lips, the one that always means trouble, but then he deflates and mumbles, "Yeah."

"Is that what you and Scott are fighting about?"

"...Yeah…"

"I take it Scott doesn't approve of Derek."

" _Yeah_." And that one was bitter.

"I see."

They're both silent for a moment and then Stiles looks up at him expectantly, waves his hands all around, and goes, "Well?"

"Well, what?" the Sheriff asks.

"Well...what the hell do you think about my older boyfriend you've had the pleasure of arresting?"

John calmly states, "I think Derek's been through a lot and I'm not really at a place to judge. I think _you've_ been through a lot and are more mature than you come off a lot of the time. I think he saved you from a panic attack and I think I enjoy having breakfast with him. I also think I don't really know him well enough to make a final call on whether or not I approve of him and he better be at breakfast tomorrow morning."

Stiles blinks at him a few times. Then he drops his head into his hands and laughs hysterically.

"Dad," he says when he finally surfaces again, "you're the best."

"That would be correct."

Stiles leans back in his chair and looks at his father fondly. "I was going to tell you, you know. I was just waiting until you got to know him a little bit better, so you wouldn't jump to any conclusions. Looks like you were way ahead of me there."

"Did you forget I'm a cop?"

"No. And I certainly didn't forget that you've arrested Derek before either."

"I have not forgotten that little bit either."

"Just give him a chance. That's all I ask."

"I will. It's only fair."

Stiles nods. "He...he's good for me, you know. I know that's probably hard to believe, but he is. He makes me feel like...like everything will be okay."

"I believe you." Regardless of what John thinks, it's clear that Stiles wholly believes it, so he'll agree with it for now. Like any good cop he'll wait to gather all the evidence before pointing any fingers.

Stiles smiles at him. Then his smile drops away and he says, "I wish Scott would."

"Why doesn't Scott like Derek?" The Sheriff thinks back to when Scott had pinned the night at the school on him and guesses that this may be a long-standing problem.

Stiles shrugs. "Derek's made some mistakes. Scott hasn't forgiven him for them."

"Has Derek apologized?"

Stiles grows pensive. "No. No, I guess he hasn't."

"Well, maybe you should start there."

"Yeah. Thanks, Dad."

"Anytime, kiddo. Now please tell me you brought me _something_ in here that's bad for me."

"Nope," Stiles says with a grin and a pop of the "p."

"Aw, jeez," the Sheriff says and views the meal before him with the eyes of a prisoner being walked to the gallows.

"Eat up, Dad!" Stiles chirps and opens his own turkey-burger to take a huge bite.

 

When Stiles meets Derek outside the edge of the Preserve where he and Cor wait for him each night, he walks up to him and smiles softly.

"Let's not fight anymore," he says.

"Okay," Derek agrees easily.

"Never keep something like that from me again?"

"Yes."

"Good. Let's go home, I'm beat. This week has sucked." Stiles recalls Cor after patting him once on the head, then heads for the Jeep.

"Agreed."

Climbing into the car Stiles states, "Dad knows we're together."

Derek pauses, then continues arranging himself in his seat. "And?"

"He expects to see you at breakfast tomorrow."

Derek nods.

"And he didn't mention anything about us having sex, which means he's probably saving it for when you're there. I think we should count ourselves lucky that neither of us can get pregnant."

Derek grimaces. "Are we lying about it?"

Stiles considers this. "I really don't think we can. Oh, well. We'll play it by ear tomorrow, eh?"

The werewolf shoots him a look that says that is a less than satisfactory answer.

Stiles only laughs.

Derek and Stiles lay down together for the first time in four nights. It might as well have been four months. The way Derek holds him is like Stiles is the air itself and Derek hasn't taken a breath all week. Stiles clings to Derek so tightly that he might have hurt a human man.  It's forceful. They're both a bit too needy, too desperate, to take this slow tonight. But the scratches on Derek's back will fade before they're both asleep. The bruises on Stiles' hips won't, but Stiles likes them there, so that's fine.

Stiles doesn't draw Cor out tonight. Derek is there and that's all the protection he needs.  He feels safe and warm and peaceful. He isn't surprised he sleeps for nine whole hours.


	2. Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: If you are returning to read the second chapter, please, PLEASE take a look at the updated tags. There's a bit of sensitive subjects in this chapter and I don't want anyone to miss the new tags. It's not too much, so a lot of people might be okay, but have someone read it and check first please if this is a concern for you. Look before you leap, darlings!

Breakfast the next morning goes about how Stiles had expected. The Sheriff greets Derek with a handshake, but both Stiles and Derek are picking up on the Sheriff's forced politeness and it's worrying them.

Conversation is pleasant for about the first twenty minutes. Then Sheriff Stilinski pours himself another cup of decaf and says, "So Derek. How long have you been sleeping with my underage son?"

By some small miracle Derek had paused in bringing his cup to his lips, so he doesn't choke on a mouthful of hot beverage. Rather, he almost drops the cup.

Stiles' mouth falls open and he knew his dad was going to be direct about this, but that was a little strong, even for a Sheriff. He skipped asking if Derek was sleeping with Stiles and went straight to assuming he was and expressing his distaste for a man in his mid-twenties sleeping with a teenager.

It did sound kind of bad when put like that.

Stiles shakes off his shock and takes Derek's cup from him before something terrible really does happen to the poor piece of dishware.

"Dad—" Stiles begins, but is quickly shut down by his father.

"I asked Derek, Stiles."

Stiles winds his mouth closed and looks to Derek. Derek, for his part, is frozen in place. He's a little wide-eyed in that way that makes him look young and vulnerable, and while that may be helping them a little here, Stiles doesn't think it's intentional. His hand is still hanging midair where it had held the cup and Stiles gently places his own hand over it and lowers it to the table.

The action draws Derek's attention and he snaps out of his stupor quite suddenly to stare at Stiles. Stiles gives him a soft, encouraging look and grasps his hand, wordlessly letting him know he's there.

Derek gathers his confidence back up and faces the Sheriff with a steady gaze.

"A week yesterday."

It's the truth. The Sheriff seems to sense that somehow and he nods.

"You'd been hanging around my son for a while before that though. Hadn't you?"

Derek remembers that first morning after Stiles' panic attack, when the Sheriff had been fishing for information about their relationship. He remembers being escorted to the door, too.

"Yes."

"And why was that?"

Stiles opens his mouth again and the Sheriff quells him with a look.

This is all on Derek apparently.

"Stiles and Scott...got a little more involved than they had intended, when they accused me of my sister's murder."

Stiles swallows thickly at the memory. He can't believe he ever did something so insensitive to Derek.

Derek continues, "When I was released, Stiles...wanted to know who the real murderer was."

"Oh, Stiles," the Sheriff groans.

Stiles laughs nervously.

"He figured it out," Derek states.

" _Stiles_."

"Sorry, Dad. You know how I get," Stiles says with a wince.

"Yes. Yes, I do. It usually doesn't involve serial murderers though. Please tell me you didn't go after Kate Argent."

"I—"

"No," John interrupts his son again, then points at Derek. " _You_ tell me."

Derek answers with a simple, "No. He didn't go after Kate Argent." They are both _completely_  leaving out the part where it was actually Peter, and yes, Stiles kind of, sort of did go after him. More than once. "He did tell me about everything he found though. That was how our acquaintanceship began."

The Sheriff's expression reflects suspicion suddenly and he states, "You didn't kill Kate Argent though."

It's not a question. But the Sheriff is gauging Derek's reaction and seeing if maybe that statement isn't actually true.

With eyes full of pain Derek confirms, "I didn't kill Kate Argent."

Stiles realizes something abruptly. He knows that Kate used Derek somehow to gain access to the Hale family and burn them alive and that Derek feels guilty about it. What he hadn't figured out until this moment was _how_ exactly Kate had manipulated Derek.

 _He loved her_.

Stiles' heart rate must spike or his scent must change or something because Derek looks over at him, frowning. The stricken look on Stiles' face is probably pretty easy to read and it's only a second or two before Derek's face falls into abject horror.

_And now he knows I know._

"Shit."

"Stiles?" Sheriff Stilinski asks. "Am I missing something here?" He obviously is. He has no idea what just happened, but both people across the table from him suddenly look like somebody _died._

"Um…" Stiles says, distracted from coming up with an acceptable answer when Derek tries to pull his hand away. Stiles holds on tight and doesn't let him. Derek's eyes drop to his lap and his head hangs in shame in lieu of a full retreat.

This needs to stop right now.

For lack of anything better Stiles shoots his father a pleading look and shakes his head ever so slightly. His dad isn't Sheriff for nothing and he interprets the situation excellently and steers the conversation as far away from Kate Argent as he can.

Stiles thinks again that he's the best dad in the world for trusting Stiles to know that this wasn't something for the three of them to discuss.

"So when you found Stiles having a panic attack at Deaton's," the Sheriff begins, a completely merciful non sequitur, "had you already been with him at the clinic? Derek?"

Derek looks up at the Sheriff and he still seems kind of small and lost and broken. But he straightens up slightly and replies, "No. I really just found him."

The Sheriff nods. "That was quite lucky then."

Not really. Derek had been eavesdropping on Scott, Stiles, and Allison talking—arguing loudly—about how to handle Lydia's sudden involvement in the supernatural, when Allison had stormed out in a rage. Derek had immediately noticed when Stiles started having an attack, because he was already tuned in. But no one else needs to know any of that.

"So after that…" the Sheriff continues, "you somehow became...involved?"

This is the exact opposite of a moment of truth. The weight of the situation, the importance of what Derek says next, still feels the same as if it were though.

Derek nods once, slowly. Stalling for time. "Stiles was kind of...having a rough time and I just…"

"Were there," Stiles whispers. "You were there."

Derek glances at Stiles, then nods to the Sheriff. "I couldn't just leave him...like that."

"Like what?" John asks.

"Like…" Derek peeks over at Stiles from the corner of his eye and now Stiles is the one hanging his head in shame. "Distressed," Derek finally says with a squeeze to the teen's hand. "Stiles was...having trouble dealing with something on his own, so I...Scott wasn't around."

The Sheriff seems to sense that Derek doesn't want to reveal what it was exactly that Stiles was having trouble with. It's personal after all. So he directs his next question at his son, soft and gentle. "What were you having trouble with, Stiles?"

Stiles raises his head, looks at his dad. His mouth is a crumpled mess of _unhappy_ , but he says, "I was...paranoid. After all the murders...I just...wasn't dealing well."

"Was Scott aware of this?"

"Not...not really, no."

The Sheriff nods thoughtfully. "You and Scott certainly seem to be having some issues right now."

Stiles shrugs in that noncommittal, teenager sort of way. "Yeah, I guess."

"So Derek was there when you needed him. That's what this comes down to?"

Stiles checks to make sure he really has permission to answer, then says, "Yeah. He always has been. Hard not to like him when he saves you from—"

"Stiles?" the Sheriff prompts, eyebrows raised, when it's clear that Stiles didn't even intend to start that sentence, much less finish it.

It's another few seconds before Stiles completes it.

" _Yourself_."

The Sheriff's brow crinkles in sympathy. He knows how hard the panic attacks were for his son when he was little and how devastating it must be for him to be suffering from them again. He reaches across the table and grips Stiles' shoulder, firmly and affectionately.

He says, "I understand why you didn't come to me. I wish you had, but I understand. I'm glad Derek could be there for you."

Stiles nods, quiet for a moment, then says in a wobbly voice, "Thanks, Dad."

Sheriff Stilinski plops back down into his seat and gives his son another soft look before turning back to Derek. "What about you, Derek?"

The question draws Derek's attention away from Stiles and he looks at the Sheriff, puzzled. "Sir?"

"What about you? I can see why Stiles wants to be with you. But what about you? Why do you want to be with Stiles?"

Stiles nervously glances at Derek. He doesn't actually know the answer to that question either. He figures the fact that they're bound by blood and werewolf instincts and some other stuff Stiles probably doesn't really understand plays a part, but. But it'd be nice to know Derek isn't just here because he _has_ to be.

Derek takes a minute to think about it. To find the right words. They're still holding hands and Stiles kind of wants to pull away, the longer the silence goes on, but then Derek squeezes his hand and gives the Sheriff an answer.

"Stiles made me feel like it was worth living again."

Stiles gapes at Derek in shock. That's not really what he was expecting. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't for Derek to admit that he had maybe been more than a little suicidal up until recently. Up until Stiles and him.

The Sheriff doesn't seem to know how to respond to that either, and while his shock is much more subtle than his son's, his mouth still parts slightly and he stares.

He finally gathers himself enough to try to say something and what comes out is, "Well. It...it sounds like...aw, geez, kids, this is—holy crap—this is so beyond what I thought probably happened. Which is that Stiles is a horny teenager and Derek is an attractive man who is willing to sleep with horny teenagers, so you started sleeping together. In which case I was going put my foot down about this and arrest Derek, but this is...Jesus, you guys are practically over the moon for each other. I mean you’re borderline codependent from the sounds of it, but I think that right now that’s...”

The Sheriff thinks about Stiles’ loss of his mother; his troubles with the best friend who had always been there for him until he just suddenly hadn’t; the troubles father and son have been having recently even. He thinks of the gaping hole that Derek’s family used to fill. He thinks that maybe it’s okay for both of them to _need_ someone so much right now. And well, he can't really judge Derek for finding a reason to live in Stiles. After all, Stiles needing him is the only thing that eventually caused the Sheriff to pull his act together. Sometimes that need can be a catalyst for a better relationship between two people.

So he says, “Maybe it’s what you both need right now. I’ll be keeping an eye on you though, making sure it doesn’t become unhealthy.”

Stiles' mouth wobbles into a smile at his dad's inadvertent joke about the moon. It doesn't last though because everything else his dad just said catches up to him and he doesn't know where to start.

"Hey…" is what he goes with, an offended exclamation. "You don’t have to... _keep an eye on_...no, okay, whatever. Do the dad thing. Or the cop thing or whatever it is you’re doing. But I'm not just a horny teenager, Dad! I mean, yes, I am, but I have a little bit more substance than that, thank you very much. And Derek is not some pedophile! Can you _not_?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, Derek," John concedes with an apology.

Derek accepts it with a nod.

John adds, "I really am. Sorry, I mean. I came in here with some predisposed ideas and they were completely wrong." He glances at Stiles. "Well, mostly wrong."

Stiles quirks a grin that says _you know you love me_. "I promise it's not just about the sex, Dad."

"Aw, jeez, Stiles—don't," the Sheriff moans. Pleads, really.

"It's not," Derek reiterates. "Really. Stiles is...special."

"Well, that's probably an understatement," the Sheriff says in a deadpan.

Stiles is grinning wide. "I'm choosing to take that as a compliment," he chimes, then presses, "So that whole arresting Derek thing?"

The Sheriff sighs and looks between the two of them. "No, I'm not going to arrest Derek. Anymore. I mean, the age thing was certainly a concern, but...God, I don't want you two to pull some Romeo and Juliet stunt or something because I forced you apart. Geez…" John rubs his hands over his face.

Stiles grins wholeheartedly and teases, "Aw, Dad. You think we have a love like Romeo and Juliet?"

His father answers seriously. "I think you certainly have _some_ kind of love."

The joke rapidly crumbles away and Stiles glances over at Derek, decides he can't look him in the face right now, and looks at their clasped hands instead. That actually becomes too much, too, and he opts for pathetically staring at the edge of the table.

They haven't used the L-word yet. Stiles has thought it a few times, but he's never said it out loud. Not even when no one is around to hear it but he and Cor. He certainly didn't want his _dad_ to be the first one to say it.

"Something like that," Derek mutters quietly and Stiles finds the courage to look him in the eye again.

He smiles a little.

They'll say it when they're ready.

"So…" the Sheriff says, breaking up their insufferable, albeit adorable, exchange. "I guess we're good here."

"Yeah?" Stiles asks happily.

"Yeah," the Sheriff says, softening at the way Stiles does seem to be genuinely happy. John isn't sure he can remember the last time Stiles was as happy as this. The kid walks around with the weight of the world on his shoulders, always worrying about everybody but himself, trying to take care of everyone else and never letting anyone know when _he_ needs to be the one taken care of for once. He's been that way since…

John sighs. This isn't really what he was expecting from his son, who had had a decade-long plan to marry Lydia Martin. But then again, expecting anything from Stiles is like asking him to do the exact opposite, so he can't say he's surprised either. Anyway, he can't help but be happy his son is happy.

"You two take care of each other," the Sheriff says.

They both nod.

"We will," Stiles agrees.

"Good. That's good. I'm sure I don't have to tell either of you that I have a gun and what exactly will happen if I feel there is reason to use it."

"Da-aad," Stiles groans. "Really? The 'I have a gun' speech?"

"No speech. Just a gentle reminder."

"Noted, sir," Derek says. He needs to remember to ask Stiles if he replaced his father's ammo with wolfsbane bullets.

"Good. Now, I never want to hear about any details of your relationship ever again. Ever. Clear?"

"As crystal!" Stiles insists and Derek actually smiles in amusement a little. Just a little.

"Good. I'm serious. Not a word. Not a _sound_."

"Geez, Dad!" Stiles says, blushing bright pink.

"I'm just going to pretend that you are waiting until marriage."

"Dad!"

"Stay blissfully ignorant."

"Dad, please!"

The Sheriff chuckles in that sort of way that dads do when they've successfully filled their child's embarrassment quota for the day. He gets up from the table and says, "I'm heading up. You got the dishes?"

"Yes," Stiles says impatiently.

The Sheriff disappears with a wave and Stiles flops back into his chair to melt into a puddle of mortification. He glances over at Derek who is openly studying the ceiling. He must sense Stiles staring at him because he glances down at Stiles without turning his head.

His eyebrows raise slowly in question.

"Not a word," Stiles says decisively and throws himself out of his chair. "We are pretending that never happened."

"Understood," Derek responds and follows Stiles over to the sink, hands full of plates. He kisses Stiles on the cheek when he deposits them, earning a smile from the teen.

Stiles and Derek's love-story high doesn't last long when, after they've been watching Saturday morning cartoons for half an hour, Derek turns his head toward the front door and lifts his top lip to growl lowly.

"Who is it?"

"Argent," comes the bit-out reply.

Stiles goes to the door as there's a knock on it. Hopefully it doesn't wake his dad.

Derek is on Stiles' heels and the witch stops before answering the door to tell him, "Behave."

Derek's snarl disappears, but the glare that takes its place is not much better. Stiles will take it all the same.

He opens the door and offers Chris a polite smile as he greets him. "Mr. Argent. Can we help you?"

Chris briefly watches Derek before focusing on Stiles. "No. Nothing like that. I came to tell you something. To share information, as promised.

Stiles nods, glad to see that Chris is taking their agreement to heart. "And what did you want to tell us?"

"Gerard is alive."

Chris does it quick like ripping off a band aid and Stiles reels from the sudden and unexpected and _terrible_ news.

He recovers and asks, "And you know this...how?"

"Because I know the facility he's staying at."

"Oh my god, Chris. You're keeping him alive."

"He's my father."

"He's a psychopath!"

"I'm aware, Stiles," Chris says through gritted teeth. "But he can't do any harm now."

"Oh, is he comatose?" Stiles asks incredulously. "And are you sure? Because as I recall _sometimes people just_ pretend _to be catatonic._ " Stiles is spitting mad.

Derek's hand lands on his shoulder, when it looks like Stiles might need to be the one held back. Chris grimaces at the reminder, shooting the werewolf a sour look that he returns ten-fold.

"No, Gerard is not comatose. But he's sick to the point of being confined to a wheelchair."

"I still think he could manage to ruin everyone's lives, Chris," Stiles says bitterly.

Chris ignores him and continues, "The mountain ash has poisoned his body. I don't know how much longer he'll live. I just wanted to let you know he's alive, since we're sharing information now."

Stiles stares hard at the man. Finally, slowly and in a dead serious tone, he says, "Do you think he left the hunter's body on the Hale house porch?"

Chris hesitates.

"Chris."

"I think it's possible."

Stiles sighs. Slashing someone's throat up to make it _look_ like a werewolf had done it is not very hard to do. They hadn't thought of that previously, because who around would have done that? Now with the knowledge that _Gerard_ is around, it seems more important. Plus the hunters had been Kate-and-Gerard groupies. They very well may have been sent by Gerard himself. He looks at Derek, who is thinking exactly the same thing.

"It might not have been the Alpha pack, then," Stiles says aloud.

"It would make sense why we haven't been able to find any trace of them. And why they haven't done anything since, or even shown themselves."

Stiles nods. "The symbol on the door is still totally worrying. But maybe it doesn't have anything to do with the body on the porch."

"Maybe," Derek agrees.

"Gerard likes to scheme," Chris says. As if they don't know that. "It wouldn't surprise me if he was behind this somehow. I'm not saying he is, or that I know that he is, because I don't. But it wouldn't surprise me."

Stiles leans back into Derek, who wraps an arm around his waist in comfort.

"This is very bad," he says.

The two men nod and Stiles looks back to Chris and tells him, "Thank you for telling us."

"I'll let you know anything else I find. And Stiles?" Chris gives him a grim, but determined look. "I'll do what I can to help bring him down, if it is him."

"Thank you, Chris," Stiles says and he really means it. Killing your father is a lot to ask of someone. Even if the man is an evil psychopath and deserves it. "Stay in touch."

"You, too," Chris says and turns to leave.

Stiles and Derek watch him go, then Stiles sighs long and loud.

"I guess...we need to shift focus."

"You think it's Gerard." Not a question.

Stiles nods against Derek's shoulder. "I do. It would make more sense, wouldn't it? Killing the hunter that he himself sent, but who failed to kill us, to punish the hunter for his failure _and_ simultaneously send us a threatening message? Sounds like something he'd do."

"It does."

Stiles sighs again. "Guess we better get started then."

They turn around to head to Stiles' room and stop dead at the sight of the Sheriff standing halfway down the staircase, arms crossed and wearing perhaps the worst expression Stiles has ever seen on his face.

"Stiles. Derek."

The morning had been going so well.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> http://mommymuffin.tumblr.com/


End file.
